Just One Spark Is All It Takes
by breathofmadness
Summary: When Ciel Phantomhive formed his contract with a devil, he didn't expect to fall not only inside the black, but also in love. Sebastian Michaelis couldn't wait for the moment when he could devour Ciel's soul, that is, before he felt his first emotion in a thousand years. SebaCiel, a rewrite of original on another account. Rate T, I don't own Kuroshitsuji. Follows anime/manga.
1. Prologue - Hellfire

**A/N – This title may seem familiar to you: as this is a rewrite of my story of the same name on another account. I wanted to start over, and this is the beginning. I know that JOSIAIT may not reach the same popularity as its original, but I'm okay with that. Because I'm no longer fourteen, I'm sixteen, and my writing has improved. Please leave a review, I hope you enjoy. Also, I'm sorry, I make mistakes.**

It occurred to the juvenile ten-year-old Ciel Phantomhive as he huddled in the musty darkness, the horrifying and unbearable terror tightly constricting his anemic and asthmatic chest, the agonizing pain throbbing in his knobbly knees: If only he miraculously possessed a _second_ pair of hands, he could cover his _own_ sensitive ears, and perhaps completely block out the atrociously deafening noise of his only home, the Phantomhive Manor, being demolished. Sadly, the only hands Ciel currently owned are occupied right now, blanketing the pointed, furry ears of a German shepherd under the covers of his normally-cozy bedroom.

The large dog that came up to Ciel's ribcage kept shuddering in his arms, jerking at the constant crashes and clangs and cracks outside the room. The peace of glorious solitude that he was accustomed to never returned despite his prayers, as he heard only the loud popping of sparks along the wooden floors, and a flurry of angry flames eating away at the skeleton structure of the Georgian estate.

Ciel started coughing again, but he couldn't help it. For his whole ridiculously limited life he had been fighting his goddamned asthma that he inherited from his mother, which his Aunt Angelina Dalles-Burnett swore on her own damned crossed heart that she will cure and finally free his pathetic lungs from the unbelievably tight bounds of the forsaken illness. A stubborn ache in his joints from sitting in an uncomfortable position for so long and his bony arms struggling to keep the dog down on the bed wasn't helping much, either. His earlier mentioned asthma affects him every month of every year, from rushing around with his adorably cute emerald-eyed and golden-haired cousin Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Midford just to make her happy, most the countless time. Ciel genuinely loved Elizabeth with all his young heart, and doubtlessly hated to see her equally youthful face frown in disappointment or have rivers slipping from her eyes of jade, so he worked hard to keep her straight-toothed smile in check, even though he had to pay the hellish and nightmarish price afterwards. Even now, with the heat of the incoming orange heading to consume him and the German shepherd, the asthma is mercilessly sapping his limited energy, snatching away his remaining breath, and he could even feel the piercing thrust of a stabbing fever with each burdensome breath, the endless wheezing and the deadly heaving of his chest not precisely helping, either.

He slumped listlessly on the bed, his coughs effectively shutting down his malfunctioned breathing in a hacking, wheezing fit. Nonetheless, he kept his hands over Sebastian's ears as he felt like he already had one little foot in his dark and dirty grave. He knew that the rasping sounds coming from his tiny frame was most likely attracting unwanted attention, but he didn't care. His parents, Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, instructed him to remain in his bedroom with his 'guard dog' Sebastian with him. His gorgeous mother, who shared Ciel's eyes and other delicate features, promised and even pinkie-swore that everything will be okay if he just stayed exactly where he is. He of course gladly obliged, but the crystal tears in her eyes caused feelings of unease to stir inside of him. Why didn't she tell him to escape, is there something more than just the fire?

His bedroom was a decent size, compared to that of the other grand rooms in the Phantomhive Estate. Though, right now, it is as dark as the bitter winter nights in distant British North American colonies, just as cold, and reeking of smoke. Ciel's linen sheets brush gently on his face of pure porcelain as he wrapped himself and Sebastian with a protective cocoon of bedclothes. Ciel's mother, Rachel, told him that it was okay in the bedroom, as she sobbed on his sharp shoulder. She didn't tell him what was happening, even when he asked in his usual and polite manner, but he still did as he was told. Ciel Phantomhive, the son of Earl Vincent Phantomhive, was as obedient as a governess, but also as beautiful as a blooming rose.

He finally managed to swallow back his coughs.

Not even a moment later, a pair of sprinting footsteps joined with the chorus of flames on the opposite side of Ciel's closed bedroom door. He was tempted to dash out, to save himself from the dangerous fire and escape with the 'guard dog' Sebastian the German shepherd at his side. Instead, he stayed. Ciel squeezed his slender hands tighter against Sebastian's ears, and the dog flinches and whimpers at the sound of the passing footsteps getting further and further down the hallway, which Ciel hoped was now muffled by his methods.

If asked to describe how he felt and what was happening around him, the always-smiling Ciel Phantomhive would take a complete 180° from his usual joyous personality and say that it was as if the Hell he secretly read about in the restricted section of his father's library came to the already tarnished Earth. The atmosphere, if you removed the fear factor, was as hauntingly beautiful as Mozart's compositions—particularly the Lacrimosa, part of the Dies Irae sequence in the Requiem mass—Ciel noted as the symphony rang through his sensitive ears. The constant sounds were like a repeating chorus in a song: his heavy breathing… Sebastian whimpering… the popping of sparks… the whistle of soaring and scorching heat… the snapping of burning and splintering wood…

Then it was the brutal finale… the terrified scream of two people in unison—a man and a woman.

Chills ran down Ciel's spine. He swallowed nervously, feeling as though broken glass was sliding down his scratchy throat. Sebastian was still shaking. Ciel didn't know what to do or say, even though he was usually the one ready to say something encouraging to keep others going. He wanted to whisper something encouraging to the dog, as his young self truly believed that protecting the dog from the disaster was much more important than his own perfectly innocent mind.

Rachel Phantomhive would know what to say. She always knew how to make Ciel feel better, especially when there was a thunderstorm and he sprinted inside her bedroom to hide from the extraordinarily loud drumming of the storm. Lady Rachel was a kind woman who was envied by everybody for her beauty and personality, even if her asthma typically confined her to the manor. She was out there, in the burning battlefield, trapped with her husband and servants in what seemed to Ciel to be a cage of eminent death. The boy, who always wanted to be somewhat independent, hated having to hide and be nearly neglected with Sebastian the dog while the others were drowning in Hell's fire.

Ciel supposed it was because he's the youngest of the estate's residents. The only child of Vincent and Rachel, he was a ten-year-old just standing at five feet, and had a scarecrow of a frame that barely fills out the clothes made for him by the Phantomhive's personal tailor, Miss Nina Hopkins. His mop of navy blue hair and large sapphire eyes didn't really help with his childlike appearance, either.

The young boy sucked in a hoarse breath, twisting over to look at the German shepherd caught within the labyrinth of sheets that he created. Sebastian's large melted chocolate eyes peered up at him, whimpering quietly. Ciel could see his own doll-like face reflected in his eyes, his shaggy navy hair rumpled from having to hide for so long, and his pale skin nearly translucent.

For the past hour, he barely said a word, even though he was usually a chatterbox around others he knew well. Of course, it had been quite a traumatizing hour—especially since trauma affected children a lot more than mature adults—but Ciel was determined to not give up.

"It's gonna be okay, Sebastian," Ciel whispered reassuringly to the dog while nearly hyperventilating himself.

The dog whimpered in response, positioning himself as if he wanted to protect the young boy himself. He was freaking out just as much as the child.

"Sshhhhh." He cradled the dog's head, pressing it against his dress shirt. The warmth from Sebastian's body didn't help much with his rising fever. He covered his ears again when another loud burst exploded somewhere outside the bedroom, the loudest yet. He couldn't bear the thought of Sebastian suffering from hearing those dreadful sounds of the hellish symphony that appears to have been written for Lucifer himself.

Ciel sat up, cocking his head to the side to determine the source. It sounded like a proper explosion, set off by a grenade somewhere in the mansion, but he couldn't tell for sure. At first, Ciel felt the irresistible urge to run out the door. His parents were out there somewhere, they would know what to do, to get the three of them out alive.

He stopped himself, chewing on his rosy lip nervously, enough that metallic blood began penetrating his taste buds. Rachel instructed him to stay, but he decided that now wasn't the time to be following the rules as always. He took a deep breath, removed the sheets, and released Sebastian, who is skittering in anxiety. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, he hopped off, the dog following loyally and closely at his side. He moved quietly toward the door.

Swallowing back his growing fears, Ciel Phantomhive placed his hand on the feverishly hot metal of the doorknob, and swiftly twisted it with a single yet simple flick of his bony wrist.

The first thing he saw when the polished oak door creaked on its hinges to reveal the 'outside world' was an ocean of red, orange, and yellow. The fire was a raging tiger, an unstoppable monster with razor sharp teeth. Nothing and no one would be able to escape without being affected by its agony, Ciel realized as he watched the flames eat away at the physical form of his most precious and sweetest memories. Suddenly, he was snapped out of his abrupt daze by Sebastian, who was now howling while sprinting down the halls at top speed, ignoring the blanket of red and orange silk that was now threatening to destroy Ciel's one and only home that he ever knew in his pathetic life that was wasted on making other people besides himself happy.

"Sebastian!" Ciel shouted impulsively running after the wretched animal despite his protesting and aching lungs. He now noticed that he was barefoot, sparks from the lower floors coming through the cracks on the wooden floorboards and singeing the bottoms of his delicate feet. He was also only clothed in a large white dress shirt and brown shorts, which was making it a lot easier to sprint, even though he did lose track of Sebastian's location.

The Phantomhive mansion continued to creak as if it was haunted by actual Phantoms in a ghostly hive as Ciel navigated through the maze of a manor.

"Somebody!" he shrieked, not even caring about if he ended up being caught by the illusive enemy. "Heey! Where did everyone go?!"

Ciel nearly tripped down the stairs to the next floor, and finally heard Sebastian the German shepherd yelping frantically. Taking in a sharp breath, he found himself skidding to a halt in front of his father's, Vincent's, study. Of course he would be in there, seeking the earl for comfort instead of the childish kid that was trying to help the animal.

He opened the study's doors, only to find himself in a shadowed cave of a room. Everything was dark, the only light coming from where Ciel just came from with the incoming magnificent yet terrifying beast of flames. He took a few hesitant steps inside, his royal blue eyes adjusting to the dimness of his surroundings within the nocturne of shadows. Eventually, he froze, realizing that his singed foot was… wet. He looked down, his eyes focused well enough to pick out the red liquid staining the floor. Crouching down, a wave of nausea shook the boy's skinny frame.

It was the black German shepherd, Sebastian, lying lifeless in the centre of a pool of pure scarlet.

"Sebastian…?" he muttered incredulously.

Ciel swallowed back the bile rising in his throat, and stood up, noticing his now bloodstained hands as they shook uncontrollably like someone with chronic epilepsy. While staring at his slicked hands, a glimmer of blonde caught his attention. Cutting his glance in that direction, he lowered his hands in shock, falling to his knees. Hunching forward, he began roaring vomit across the floor, which was now swirling sickeningly with Sebastian's blood. Tears burned Ciel's eyes as the image was burned into his tainted mind.

Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were on the floor, wrapped in each other's arms as if attempting to shield one another from whatever evil and mysterious force came to brutally murder them. Their eyes were open and glassy, Rachel's hair swept from its normally neat ponytail enough for Ciel to notice it in the horrible lighting. A pool of fresh crimson flowed from their joined bodies, obviously more so than Sebastian's alone.

The boy was almost choking on the iron perfume of the opaque rosy red liquid seeping along the floors. The thought seemed almost foreign to Ciel: Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive…were…dead, and they were never coming back, ever. Panic filled Ciel like their butler, Tanaka, would fill a delicious cup of earl grey tea for everyone, with its lavender essence overwhelming the noble drinkers. Instead, now, it was the musty stench of rust overwhelming the boy's nose, with the air even tasting sour from it.

"Father… Mother…" Ciel mumbled in a delirium as he stood up, tears flowing from his jewel-like eyes as he wiped his mouth with his grimy sleeve. This, the child realised, was definitely the worst birthday ever, on this bitter December night of the fourteenth.

Overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts and emotions, Ciel ran out of the room and back into the mighty structure of the pure, searing hot inferno. The hallway appeared to be twisting, spinning as if attempting to drive him into the cracks of insanity. As if the burning tower of destruction wasn't already bringing out the madness inside.

"Someone help me!" Ciel began screaming again, desperate to live. "Everyone's going to die!"

He saw someone at the end of the hall, an old man dressed in solid black with a worried expression on his face. Ciel's heart bloomed with newfound hope, recognizing the man upon sight. It was old man Tanaka, the head butler of the Phantomhive household.

"Tanaka! Help me!" Ciel cried, running at the butler.

Tanaka looked back at him in panic, his swept back gray hair sticking up in random places and his monocle cracked and crooked on his nose. "You must not come over here!" the man insisted, his wrinkled face scrunched up in worry. "Please run away. Lord Ciel…" Tanaka begins swaying, startling Ciel. "This is all too awful for y—"

The old man collapsed to the floor, blood spewing from his back and a hooded man holding a bloodstained knife behind him. The man was wearing a cruel black mask with laced outlining, and a twisted smile is painted upon his face.

"TANA—" Ciel couldn't even finish his plea for Tanaka, the faithful servant, to live, as something hit him hard in the head from behind and darkness seemed to swallow him up, causing the flickering eyes of Hell to disappear… along with the Phantomhive manor as ten-year-old Ciel Phantomhive remembered it.

XXX

"Let's take him with us. He'll fetch a good price," a gruff voice said in a greedy manner, as Ciel struggled to open his eyes. Everything sounded as though it was spoken underneath the crystal waters of the sea, not that he'd know, as he never swam before. "There's this thing called idle curiosity, and it's got deep pockets."

Ciel finally managed to spring open his eyelids, only to be greeted by rusty iron bars of a thick diameter. A velvet black curtain acts as a cloak over the cage, concealing him and the columns of metal in the shadows. Everything was dark, frightening him more than the thunderstorms ever did.

He breathed heavily through his nose to calm down, raising himself to his knees. His head throbbed, and when he placed his delicate fingers there to assess the damage, they returned sticky and slick with fresh blood. Fighting the dizzy feeling, Ciel leaned against the bars, allowing the memories of the hungry flames devouring the mansion to surface, along with bloody images of his now dead parents. His heart suddenly felt as though it was residing in his throat, slowly suffocating him.

Suddenly, the curtains opened, letting in blinding light. Squinting, Ciel noticed the crazed face of a noble man peeking inside his cage as though he was an animal in a petting zoo. His dilated pupils, sweaty brow, and shaky laugh made the child want to burst into tears, but he resisted the temptation.

"Ohh… what have we here! Rare, right?" The man's voice was giddy with barely containable excitement, as he poured golden coins into another man's awaiting palm. "This is more than two persons' worth!"

The second man now handling the money grinned with black teeth. "Cheers, Guv."

Ciel began whimpering as the curtains closed again, allowing him to grieve alone in the silence of the near twilight dark.

XXX

"Listen up, ya snivelin' runts! Time for yer grub." A chunky man carrying a steel bucket barged in, yelling at the top of his lungs to wake up all the chained children in a thick accent that Ciel didn't recognize. "Don't be expectin' fancy china or summat… and open yer gobs now!"

He shoved a funnel in the nearest kid's mouth, forcing the feed down his throat. The boy sputtered and coughed, and Ciel realized that he must have been new to this. Then again, the son of Vincent has been trapped for weeks by this point, along with many of the other dirty and smelly kids caught inside the iron pens.

"'ere now! No spillin' a drop!" The chunky man grabbed the front of Ciel's shirt, sticking the same funnel into his mouth without even cleaning off what the previous child has coughed up. The man spoke with a taunting tone as the grub slides down his esophagus. "Can't have ya tykes up 'n' die on me…so eat'cher fill!"

 _No. It hurts. I'm scared._ Ciel thought to himself as he didn't even struggle against the man, after losing his energy over time. _Help me. Father. Mother._

The man pushed Ciel against the bars, and pulled over the next child, one with curly hair, who is somehow still sleeping despite the noise. "Next!" the man glared at the boy for a moment, long enough for Ciel to notice his open, glassy eyes in dread. "Aw. 'S'one's dead." He pulled a grimy key out of his pocket, opening the door to unlock the child's chain and drag him out. "Damn, them rich folks don't know how to hold back."

As the child with curly hair was dragged further and further away, Ciel watched in dismay. _One of these days…I'll end up joining him—he_ thought, as his tiny hand gripped the cold bar tightly.

"Don't worry," a calming voice whispered, as an equally pale and dirty hand rests on top of Ciel's and squeezed it gently. "I'll protect you."

Ciel glanced over at the other boy, a small smile forming on his chapped lips. "Oh. That's right," he gripped the other boys hand, his worries lifting temporarily. "You…are here with me."

He didn't even hear the door opening again, and was startled as two men grabbed him by the shoulders, ripping his hand out of the calm boy's. Ciel began to panic, newfound strength surging in his veins as he fought to escape.

"NO! PLEASE DON'T!" he screeched, reaching still for the comfort of the other boy's presence. He was forced on the central pedestal, men with slate grey cloaks and laced masquerade masks grinning above him, one keeping his head down, another handling his limbs, and the central one… holding a dagger with a sharp edge. The handle was encrusted with rubies the colour of fresh blood. Tears formed in his eyes for the first time in weeks.

"CIEL!" he barely had the chance to scream, until the dagger is plunged into his stomach, causing blood to almost soar from the wound.

XXX

"I shall mark you with the mark of a noble beast," a deep voice rang in his ears as he was forced to his knees, the stench of smoke gracing his senses. A searing sensation exploded on his back, just below his ribcage on the left side, as his screams filled the dark room he was dragged into earlier, after the stabbing. He knew that it is a hot iron, imprinting his translucent skin.

He was shoved inside a cage once again, this time by himself. _Let me out. Let me out. Let me out of here._ He chanted this in his damaged mind.

One of the men laughed at him as the door is locked shut. "See, you've gotten so much lovelier now."

He gritted his teeth. _It hurts even more. It's all so much dirtier. I want to go…home. Father. Mother. God. Please._ He took a shaky breath, the thick air making it difficult to breathe, especially with the endless burden of his asthma. _Why? Why must we be-!_ He clenched his fists, anger radiating inside, and realization dawning on him. _No one's coming to save me. There is no such thing as God in this world!_

The room started darkening even more, the air growing even colder than usual. He bit hard on his lip, drawing blood, and gripped the bars tighter than ever, the same word repeating in his mind repeatedly: _Kill. Kill. Kill! Kill! KILL! KILL! KILL!_

A pair of glowing red dots emerged not far in front of his cage, and raven feathers fell from what appeared to be nowhere. He took a deep breath, swallowing back his growing fear as the dots came closer, along with the sound of heels clicking on the cobblestone floor. He knew that… _thing_ …was not human.

"—oh? Well, well, well. What a tiny master this is." A deep yet charming voice flowed into his ears, a soothing melody that could turn any sober man drunk in the calming feeling it left on him. "You have summoned me. That fact will not change for all eternity… and the sacrifice that has been made will never return."

He flinched at that, finding it almost amusing how the creature thought he still had anything _left_ to lose. The wretched beast reached out its hand to him, and he grabbed it without hesitation, that last sentence causing a steady ache in his chest… heartache?

"Now! Make your choice."

He was sure that the beast was grinning at him. With hot pain building up in his right eye, he opened it wide, causing the area in front of him to light up in an alarming amethyst shade and reveal the cursed being in front of him.

"I command you!" he screamed as loudly as he could, startling those around him that were previously in shock. "Kill them all!"

"Yes, my lord…"

XXX

Anxiety rushed through his veins, causing a feeling of pure numbness to rest in his muscles. His bones felt like sand, and blood was dripping from his right eye. He fingered it hesitantly, discovering that he surprisingly still had a form of vision. Bodies lay limply on the stones; of the torturers, and the ones tortured. The sight was enough to turn anyone insane, but he feels only emptiness.

The damned devil chuckled, as if amused by the countless bloodshed. "What is your name?" it asked him with a sly smile.

He paused for a moment, biting his lip in a hesitant matter, turning to look directly at those cold yet welcome rubies it has for eyes. "I am… Ciel. Ciel Phantomhive… the successor to the title of Earl Phantomhive."


	2. Chapter 1 - Anxiety

_Two years after the tragedy…_

Ciel Phantomhive woke with a strangled cry, his mismatched eyes flying open, and found himself staring at desolate shadows. Darkness clustered around the trivial room densely. He could barely hear the quiet murmur of voices in the distance through his panic, and he struggled into a sitting position, kicking away the blankets that previously covered him. In his rush of nervous anxiety, he couldn't confirm exactly where he was, and he almost didn't want to out of traumatizing fear.

He was in a soft bed, which was almost completely foreign and alien to him in his current state of mind, in an absurdly trim bedroom, and there was hardly any light. He heard the hoarse rasp of his own breath as he turned to his left, and a strangled scream forced its way out of his throat. The masked face that plagued his night terrors hovered in the darkness before him—a hauntingly mesmerizing mask in the colourless shade of pure _noir,_ with the design of the fabled ancient labyrinth snaking along the crisp edges. Where the eyes should have been were just shadows caused by the darkness of the hellish mask, and the rest of its features were hidden by the large grey cloak that was draped upon its head and swept along its body, with only its scarred and rough hands visible, reaching towards him with seemingly no remorse.

He screamed again and scrabbled backward, falling off the bed. He hit the wooden floor, and the fabric of the too-big white dress shirt he's wearing—he's too freaked out to remember why he's wearing it—ripped at the bottom as he scrambles to his feet.

"Young Master." Someone was calling out to him, but in his panic, he barely even realized that the voice was indeed addressing him and not the leader of the wretched nightmare cult. Ciel couldn't even tell if the hooded monster with the mask was even the speaker, as it had not moved when he did, and though it showed no sign of pursuit, he began to back away, feeling behind himself for a door. The room is so dim, and his vision so blurry from just waking up, the square-shaped room feeling extremely claustrophobic to the child who had been trapped in a sheltered cage for a month. While there is a large bay window, the thick curtains were preventing the light from entering the black abyss of a room. "My Lord—"

He found the door, the metal handle feeling cold in his sweaty hand. He turned it and pulled. Nothing happened. A sob began rising in his throat as he held back tears. He _swore_ to never cry again, to never allow the major emotion to impact his life ever again…

"Young Master!" the voice said again, and suddenly white light with a golden tone flooded inside the room, causing Ciel to react by hissing and shielding his eyes with his arm. "Young Master, my sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you while you were just waking up from a bad dream." The voice is now distorting into a familiar one, one that was as sly and seductive as toxic poison. "Young Master, please."

Ciel turned slowly and pressed his back against the door. He could see clearly now, though a massive headache was now settling between his eyes. He was indeed inside a bedroom, but not a foreign one as he previously thought in his insane state of mind. It was his own room, with the familiar blue covers now hanging off the mattress where he fell off of it just moments before. Intricate paintings from the past and present are hung on the wall, and various ornaments are laid out neatly upon the wooden furniture.

Beside the bed stands a tall man wearing a fitted black tailcoat of the finest Yorkshire wool. A gleaming silver pendant shimmers over his heart, bearing the intricate crest of the noble Phantomhive family. He was carrying a tea set created by the elegant Royal Doulton, an English ceramics and stoneware maker that became quite popular in the recent years. His raven hair was parted neatly, with one single chunk resting over his face, oddly making him look even more desirable. He was at least a foot taller than Ciel, and also quite slim with a pale washed-out face and eyes that seemed to be made of glistening blood red rubies. While his staggeringly glorious and way-too-perfect features were almost comparable to the sly mystery of an elusive cat's beauty, the calm, kindly look on his near-translucent face made the ache of anxiety in Ciel's stomach to ease slightly.

"Young Master," the black butler said in an almost eccentrically polite and tranquilizing tone. "For today's breakfast, I have prepared poached salmon and mint salad. We have toast, scones, and _pain de campagne_ on the side. Which would you prefer?"

Ciel blinked in a slight daze, his breathing dawdling as the many food choices, particularly when he had to remember that _pain de campagne_ is simply the French country bread that had a hard crust and chewy texture, allowed him to temporarily forget about the nightmare-induced hallucination. After reliving the moment yet again of when he was forced to choke down grainy slop and filthy water, something made by the competent butler almost seemed like something someone like him doesn't deserve. A feeling of tiredness overwhelms him as he mutters "…scone" before yawning.

The butler smiled and nodded, pouring the luscious tea into a delicate china cup that appeared to have real charming blue roses stamped onto it. As the young boy stared at the pulchritude of the blue and white cup, the butler began carefully unbuttoning and removing the master's oversized dress shirt, replacing it with a fitted piece of formal attire. Ciel allowed his mind to wander as the butler does this, steering clear of images of hell that remained in his spirited intellect. The now twelve-year-old boy was still trying to become accustomed to this lavish life he had been blessed with, as the Earl of Phantomhive, the title that he inherited from his…late father. The precious manor that burned to wispy gray ashes during that horrid day on the December of 1885 was built back up brick by brick within the fog-cloaked forest just a short distance from the fair city of London in the next year. He was taken away for a dreadfully long month, only to be rescued by the very man that is carefully dressing him at this very moment.

Ciel sniffed at the air, breaking out of his wayward thoughts as a familiar crisp, citrusy scent becomes present. "This aroma… Ceylon tea, hm?"

The butler began tying a blue ribbon around the earl's neck. "Yes, sir. Black tea freshly grown in distant Ceylon."

The boy nodded, taking deep breaths to insure his limited sanity. "And the schedule for today?"

"Professor Hughes, an authority on the history of the Roman Empire, will arrive after breakfast, sir." The handsome butler finished dressing his young master, standing up and bowing courteously. "And after lunch—"

A thunderous burst reverberates through the room, cutting off the butler's words abruptly. Ciel whipped his head to the door, only to find that it has been knocked off its hinges by three figures who are sprawled out on the floor. The anxiety bubbling inside him seemed to skyrocket, that is until he identified them, the three other servants of the household that he appointed. He bit his lip, holding back his distinct sigh of annoyance at their outrageous stupidity. The butler, however, seemed almost angry at their antics as his crimson eyes seemed to glow like hot coals in burning furiosity.

"What are you three doing here?" the butler asked the three of them in an icy tone as they scrambled to their feet in unfortunate shame.

The youngest of the trio, Finnian the 'idiotic' gardener, saluted while holding back apologetic tears. His strawberry blonde hair was ruffled, with bright red pins keeping his shaggy bangs out of his sparkling forest green eyes. His outgoing orange plaid pants and the silly straw hat he kept behind his neck emphasized his innocent and childlike personality. The 'bumbling' maid, Mey-Rin, is blushing wildly, though most of the embarrassing redness is covered by the giant pair of thick glasses that she never leaves her designated bedroom without. She may look the part with her cherry red hair kept back in a casual yet messy feminine up-do and navy dress paired with a lacy apron, but she was possibly the clumsiest person to have ever breathed the precious oxygen of this planet. The only one left was the 'inexperienced' chef Baldroy, the tall sky blue eyed man who believed that cooking was the 'art of explosion.' While he may be handy with firearms, cooking was not his strong suit. He was now scratching the back of his head, obviously slightly concerned as to what the butler may do to punish them.

Tears began streaming down Finnian's face, creating a slight pang of guilt in the pit of Ciel's stomach, which was immediately supressed. "We're sorry, Mister Sebastian! We didn't mean too!"

"W-we were just curious, yes!" Mey-Rin stuttered enthusiastically, tapping her index fingers together in a mortifying fashion.

Baldroy lit a cigarette with a shaky hand, his expression calm yet anxious. "For the record, we didn't hear a thing…we are just awaiting our tasks for the day, Sebastian."

The butler, Sebastian, sighed as he glared at all of them with his usual blank features. "Finny, have you finished weeding the inner courtyard? Mey-Rin, have all the sheets been laundered? Baldo, were you not to be preparing dinner?"

He was answered with nervous breathing and beads of sweat forming on their brows.

"If you have time to dally here, go do your work!" Sebastian pointed towards the hallway while shouting, and the trio scurried out quickly like frightened mice, as if lightning was about to burst from the end of his gloved finger.

Ciel took a bite of his scrumptious breakfast, the flavour absolutely dissolving his senses as he watched the butler. Sebastian Michaelis became the official head butler of the Phantomhive's when he came into power, taking over as the CEO of the Funtom Corporation and as the Earl Phantomhive…amongst other things. The pair have been inseparable since that fateful day, when Ciel was set free from his bounds of Hell, only to be bound by a fresh set of chains…

Gulping down his tea timidly, Ciel decided to break the lingering silence between the two. "Speaking of _work_ …Sebastian. I got a call from Chlaus in Italy last night."

Sebastian turned to look at him. "From Mister Chlaus, Sir?"

"I need to talk to you about it. Come." He stood up, walking towards the gaping hole where a door once stood and heading towards the study.

"Yes, My Lord."

XXX

"…then…Mister Chlaus himself is coming to England, Sir?"

Sebastian Michaelis stood on the opposite side of the desk from his master, Earl Ciel of the Phantomhive family. The navy blue haired boy was looking through _The Times_ newspaper, possibly looking for any new cases being investigated by the incompetent Scotland Yard, the territorial police force responsible for policing most of London. While some would probably question why a twelve-year-old was reading a newspaper, even more may ask how in hell a twelve-year-old became a British nobleman under the rule of Queen Victoria.

Not that it was anyone's business, really. Ciel was much better at what he does than any other, even those older than him, and Sebastian was honoured to be lucky enough to serve such an interesting human. That is, until the day when he was to get his payment…

Ciel chewed on his lip, a nasty habit of his, as he glanced up at the much taller butler. "Yes. He rang to tell me he'd gotten a hold of what I'd asked for. It seems he went through a lot of trouble this time."

Sebastian nodded, picturing Mister Chlaus in his head. A middle-aged man, Chlaus was a vigorous and adventurous individual who had the unfortunate habit of speaking in the language native to the place he recently visited. If Ciel ever needed anything exotic, Mister Chlaus was the best of the best.

"He should arrive by six. We'll talk business in here." Ciel smirked mischievously, giving Sebastian a sly glance that looked almost sinister with his adorable features. "You get my drift, don't you, Sebastian?"

Sebastian smiled and bowed, placing his gloved hand over where his heart was supposed to be. "Perfectly, Sir. We shall entertain Mister Chlaus such that he is well and truly satisfied. I shall begin the preparations. If you will excuse me…"

Ciel looked away, his expression becoming lonely looking. "All right. I leave it to you."

"Please do, Sir." The butler tugged one of his gloves back down, and he noticed Ciel watching him almost longingly as he does so.

XXX

Sebastian strolled out of the room calmly, enjoying the blissful peace of the manor now that the servants were set to work. Not that they will do it _properly_ , but it was better than nothing at all. He wasn't entirely sure why Master Ciel insisted on hiring them, he would've done perfectly fine on his own, but he wasn't necessarily going to question his master as to why he hired a bunch of misfits in the 'honourable' household.

Taking a much unneeded breath, Sebastian began polishing the silverware, making them sparkle dazzlingly enough for when Mister Chlaus arrived in the evening. Polishing silver until it shone like a mirror; that was a daily job for Sebastian, though quite a turnaround from when he was serving his previous master, all those years ago.

Would you say that Sebastian Michaelis cared for his master? When asked by others, he would politely say that his master was a charming young boy with brilliant potential for the future. The harsh reality, however, was that the butler thought of Ciel as a brat…a brat who had no sympathy for others and worked his 'followers' much too hard. Just because he had a rotten past, did not mean he had to treat others likewise.

Laying out the spotless white tablecloth, Sebastian dashed to the garden, carrying a set of shining clippers. Although Finny was hopeless when it came to gardening, the sterling silver roses still managed to bloom under the harsh conditions left by the idiot. The lawn must be trimmed as well, so it resembled nothing as much as velvet.

Sebastian realized now that the food would also be vital to accomplishing the Phantomhive Hospitality. He must be particular about the beef, but equally so about the vegetables, rice, salt, and pepper. He must go to the market to select the choicest ingredients to not risk tarnishing his precious master's name.

Just as he was getting back into his no-thinking-only-working mindset, a clanging bell found its way into his ears. Sebastian looked up at the wall next to him as he made his way inside with the roses, only to find that it was Master Ciel, summoning him into the study yet again. Clapping his hands together, he sighed heavily.

"My, my…the Young Master knows how busy I am…I wonder what he could want." He said this to himself, pulling his black tailcoat back over his shoulders. It was bad enough that Ciel often got clingy when he had nightmares, what in hell could he want now?

XXX

Baldroy, the 'chef' of the Phantomhive household, smirked as he lit yet another deadly cigarette with his trusty wooden matches. The Young Master often told him in a low voice that he must stop in order to actually cook, but he just couldn't quit. The reek of the smoke, its addictive nature; it was the only thing that often kept him sane throughout the day as images of dead soldiers and the family he left flash in his mind. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was not a fun thing to have, and the smoking was the only thing that…distracted him. That is, beside the explosions that he often caused in the kitchen with his flamethrower.

He was now watching Sebastian walk down a hallway through the crack of the door, excitement building up as he realized the signs adding up; adding up to the very chance he had been waiting for.

"Seeing how Sebastian's all fired up…there's no doubt about it!" He turned around, considering the eyes of Mey-Rin, Finnian, and old man Tanaka. His smile grew, his hand closing into a fist in front of him. "We got a guest comin' today!"

Mey-Rin turned pink in the face, her smile also widening into a much happier one than after Sebastian yelled at them earlier. "N-not a doubt in the world at all!" she stuttered in her nasally voice.

Finny seemed to be the most excited of the lot. His hands shot into the air, his goofy smile making him look even more childish than he already did. "YAAAY! We'll get to eat a feast! Leftovers!"

Baldroy puffed on his cigarette, placing his index finger on Finny's forehead. "You fool! That's not the point!" he scolded the young boy gently.

"Eh?" Finny went cross-eyed to look at Baldroy's finger.

"This is our chance!" Baldroy crossed his arms, liking the feeling of being the 'commander' of the 'operation'. "We're gonna get a step ahead of that Sebastian and surprise him! It's an opportunity for us professionals to show off our skills, am I right?"

Finny's eyes began sparkling, his enthusiasm making Baldroy feel as though he was somehow impacting the sixteen-year-old's life. "AH! I see! Okay! I'll make the garden beautiful like our guest has never seen!"

Mey-Rin's face was now the same colour as her hair, most likely from thinking about the oh-so-perfect Sebastian. "A-and I'll polish the tea set for our guest to such a shine that it will look like new!"

Baldroy nodded, pleased that the lady was also becoming a part of the master plan. "Then the great Baldo will cook a main course so awesome our guest's jaw'll hit the floor!"

The trio stacked their fists on top of one another's, a sort of tradition for them as the Phantomhive servants. Baldroy couldn't seem to stop smiling, glad that he could at least allow _this_ team to have some amazing moments in their lives.

XXX

Ciel looked up from his stacks of paperwork for Funtom Corporation, only to find Sebastian walking in the room in an elegant fashion. The butler had been working with him for almost three years, and the feeling that seemed to infect his mind still lingers, even after trying to shut them out. Yes, the young boy has had feelings for his butler ever since that day, when he was rescued by the man from the wretched cult. Even with the day of his death ticking closer every second, he could deny that he felt _something_ whenever he saw the butler in black.

Was it love? Ciel wasn't sure, as he had no idea what exactly love was supposed to _feel_ like. But, he knew that if he were to say a word to anyone, he would live to regret it in the end. Why, you may ask?

Because Sebastian Michaelis was an emotionless being. Love, happiness, even sadness was only myth where he reigned from. Not only would he be scorned by his butler, but also by the entirety of England.

"What is it, Sir?" Sebastian asked, looking down at his master.

Ciel squirmed slightly, suddenly feeling anxious over what he was going to ask. However, he wasn't about to show any sort of weakness to Sebastian, not after this long. "I'm hungry. I want something sweet, like a parfait."

Sebastian pursed his lips. "No, Young Master. If you have that, you will not finish all of your dinner."

"Just make something." Ciel almost felt like an idiot now, being told 'no' by the one serving _him_.

"I am afraid I cannot, Sir."

"Just make something."

"No, Young Master."

Ciel clicked his tongue, standing up abruptly. "Fine then." He muttered, looking out the window at the cloudy sky. A thought that had been nagging him for quite some time returned as he took a deep breath. "Sebastian, do make sure that Chlaus has all the hospitality that we can offer. Everything must be perfect. If he's coming here now, after so many years, he must be doing it to test me."

"To test you, Sir?"

"Yes. Chlaus can easily send what I asked for through the post. For him to go through the trouble…he either wants something, or he wants to know if I'll be as pleasurable as my predecessor."

"So, what would you like me to do, My Lord?"

Ciel gritted his teeth, looking down at the sapphire ring gleaming on his finger. "You know that portrait, in the main hallway?"

"Yes?"

"Take it down."

Sebastian made an audible gasp, surprising Ciel. The butler rarely showed emotion, how would this be any different? Sure, he kept it there as a reminder of who he was now, but times have changed, now that it's the year of 1888. He wanted that to be something for Chlaus to notice when he enters the mansion.

"I am Ciel Phantomhive…" he muttered, rubbing the ring with his other thumb. "I'm the head of this house now. Just because they're… _my parents_ …does not mean that the portrait of them must remain there."

Sebastian bowed, and Ciel knew that his hand is over his heart as it always was.

That was when they heard the deafening clash downstairs.

 **A/N – I had this chapter prewritten, so I decided to post it now! Yes, I'm aware that this is very similar to the anime/manga beginning, but I plan to alter it to be original! Please bear with me. I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I have started it.**

 **Here is where I will reply to my current reviews:**

 **Promocat: I was going to add more to it originally, but I decided to remove some of it for plot purposes. You see, if you look closely, something is a bit…off? I'm hoping people will catch onto it for the future, which is why it isn't explained as well as I'd normally like it to.**

 **Thanks for reading, R &R!**


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